Chasing Ghosts
by Aphina
Summary: Bobby has to make some difficult decisions when a face from his past makes a re-appearance. Season Two onwards
1. Chapter 1: Coming Home

Chapter One

_Skyscrapers rise between us  
Keeping me from finding you  
If the concrete architecture  
Disappeared there'd be so few  
Of us left to navigate and  
Defend ourselves from the tide _

_Scissor Sisters – It Can't Come Quickly Enough_

Detective Grace Clementine stared up at the station house in front of her. The Twenty Seven building was looming and relentless, it was made of brownstone and preluded the image of authority. It was a source of comfort to many, and pillar of strength to others. It was regal, viewed as a safe haven by the pedestrians of the city.

To Grace it was intimating. The huge statuesque building was a representation of everything she was meant to value and uphold. The memories the building held were damning and vicious, they pinpricked at her skin and burrowed under it.

Grace didn't know what she had been thinking of, when she transfered back here. It was rare that Grace was daunted ,but here she was frozen in place by the mere presence of the building. A building where people knew, where people would still remember what had happened to her.

Many of those people were gone, their jobs had been washed away by the stench of liability, by the blood that had been on their hands, her blood to be precise.

It's time to face your fears Grace.

Wasn't that something that Bobby had said before she'd left.

She'd turned away from him just like she had turned away from the department, and eventually the force. Two years out teaching Criminal Psychology at Berkley, in California. The sunshine had been dazzling and restful, she'd spent a lot of the time on the beach, healing and resting between classes.

And now she was back in the city.

Back to the rain and dreariness of the Manhattan skyline, back to the townhouse her mother had left to her before she'd died a year ago after the cancer finally claimed her.

California had been warm and fun, there was a lightheartedness to the people there, a lack of seriousness. She'd fallen in love with surfing, because part of a group there. They were easygoing and anonymous, Grace had liked that. She liked the no questions asked mentality they had there.

The city had it's own appeal. She liked the darkness and the bright lights, the many layers that made up the essence of the island. California was a holiday, Manhattan was home. She had no idea what stirred those feelings inside her but in the end when things had started o come apart in California she knew it was time to return home.

Teaching, she was sad to say bored her.

Being a cop was in her blood, she loved the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline pumping through her veins as her shoes slapped on the pavement, the sound of clicking cuffs snapping around a perp's wrists. She loved the feeling at the end of a case, the relief, the sheer ecstatic energy that consumed her, mind body and soul.

Grace inhaled deeply, before taking a step forward. At least this time she had a new department to go to. Homicide was going to be a cake walk compared to what she'd suffered at the hands of Vice.

She checked her watch before regarding the door ahead of her with a hostile glare.

It was now or never.

Grace took the first step with ease.

* * *

Detective Robert Goren was late. It was very rare for him to be late without intention. He was constantly aware of time, and of his surroundings. He found it was important to be like that both in the nature of his job and his life.

Cecilia was his woman of choice for tonight, a secretary from the Mayor's office with long caramel colored hair and flawless skin. Women came and went in his life. The job was too enduring, long hours and interrupted dates broke down most of his relationships. So he settled for casual dates.

He was still dressed in his suit, he'd changed the white shirt to a midnight blue spare he'd had tucked in his locker. Goren had managed to squeeze a shower in before ducking out. He'd spent the day chasing down suspects literally.

He knew Cecilia was waiting at the restaurant two blocks away, probably at a candle lit table sipping at the finest Merlot. Cecilia had picked the restaurant, she said it did some great coffee. He laughed at that, coffee...

He knew that was going to be her hook up line of choice tonight.

He barely brought women back to his own place. It was his own personal space, he didn't like the intrusion of other people. It was his privacy, his sanctuary.

Goren hit the streets at quickly, his large leather shoes keeping pace with his strides as he rose his head high and surveyed the street around him. He figured he had fifteen minutes before Cecilia decided to up and leave.

His eyes strayed across the herds of people strolling up and down the sidewalk. The sky was overcast and dark, threatening to rain but Goren ignored it, he wouldn't need an umbrella since Cecilia's place was around the corner from Mario's, which she'd made a big point of mentioning.

His eyes came across someone on the sidewalk, a memory fleeted through his mind. His head darted so suddenly, it gave him a crick.

Dark hair, cut jaggedly into a fashionable bob. Wide dark blue eyes, that pierced him even now through his memories of her. Her head was turned away, distractedly to the left as her delicate tanned hand caressed the steel railing that led up to the doors of the precinct. He was seeing a ghost right now, he had to be.

There wasn't a chance in hell Grace Clementine was back in New York, not without telling him.

Someone struck him, this shoulder hitting his chest, or rather at his height almost his stomach. He spun with the blow, cursing New Yorker that hurried past him. He twisted in order to face the stairs of the station house.

Nothing.

There was no one there.

Goren frowned, his eyebrows knotting together as he studied the stairs.

He was tired, it had been a long day, a long week even. The case he had been working had dragged on and on, there had been some intense interrogations. He'd spent long hours locked in a epic battle of wits and trickery with Nicole Wallace, all for it to ignite and crash down around his head. She had gotten to him. He had to admit it had been shocking and painful when she'd brought up his mother's institutionalization.

Goren brushed it off, the case was over but it haunted him, just like Grace occasionally did. He still thought about her from time to time. The transfer over to Major Crimes had helped ease the stigma tat coincided with the mention of her name. Nobody blamed him, but Goren did. Goren blamed himself. It was the only time he'd been plagued with what if's, the only time he doubted himself was when he thought about Grace.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his beige overcoat and began to walk quickly, pushing all thoughts of Grace and Wallace from his mind.

He had ten minutes to make it two blocks.

_**Hey! If your reading this thanks for sticking with this chapter. This is a new endeavor for me so I'd be grateful if you dropped me a review to let me know what you think!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Back in the Game

Chapter Two

_Are You Alive  
Is There A Young Woman Hiding Inside  
Does She Know That We're Trying To Help Her  
Is She Totally Frozen With Fear  
If You Let Her Come Out For A Day  
She Might Even Like It And Stay  
But It's Gonna Take You To Invite Her  
Coz You Seem So Determined To Spite Her_

_KT Tunstall – Another Place To Fall_

Dinner was mediocre. As it turned out Cecilia's idea of taste was a two for one special at a shabby run down bistro, two blocks from the station house. Then again, Goren mused, he wasn't here for the coffee and 'fine wine'. He was here to regain control. It had been a long time since someone had gotten under his skin, but Nicole Wallace had managed it and that shook him to his very core. He needed something he could manipulate and control for the moment.

There was nothing sinister behind his reasoning, he didn't intend to hurt Cecilia or damage her in anyway. It was more of a test for him, he was collecting evidence in which to prove to himself above anyone that he was still worthy of the reputation that preceded him.

Goren prided himself on his ability to get into people's minds. He was acute and intuitive when it came to perps. Between them, him and Eames had the highest rate of solved crime in Major Cases this year to date and they were still going strong. Eames has said that had something to do with his lack of ability to waver in the face of adversary. Any adversary.

Alexandra Eames was the ying to his yang. It was impossible to explain the balance that lay between them. Alex was the tough cop, the one who understood and played the politics. She was more emotional than he was but it rarely showed.

Alex was everything the NYPD stood for and he liked that. He liked their friendship, it was unassuming and honest. There was no way to offend Alex as there was no way to blindside Goren, he picked things up, he couldn't help it, Alex was the one who got that.

Goren's eyes strayed to Cecilia's lips a she spoke. She liked a listener, he'd been around her long enough to be able to tell, so that's what he pretended to do. He focused on her face, his chin resting on his hand as she talked. His mind was wandering far away, somewhere almost three years ago, back to Grace, back to their relationship then.

Goren hadn't thought about Grace in months, he kept her filed away and locked in the regions of his mind along with his alcoholic father and his drug abusing brother. They were memories he didn't need, ones that tormented him sometimes in his dreams along with disembodied limbs and disturbing cases.

The past just didn't bare thinking about, at least his past didn't. It was dangerous for him to do so, it made him lose his grip on the tightly wired control he maintained. It made him impulsive and Goren preferred keeping his impulses strictly to the work place.

Hence why he hadn't looked Grace up in the past two years. Somethings were simply too raw to share again. Something horrific had bonded the two of them, something horrific had also driven them apart. Goren couldn't look at her without feeling her blood streaked all over his hands.

Her goodbyes had been rushed and stunted, and chance of reconciliation hadn't been on the cards. Really, he thought, how could it after something like that?

People, he knew, could only take so much. Everyone had their breaking points. He couldn't view Grace as weak, as he sometimes did perps, just broken and back then unstable.

He had been unstable too, unpredictable and wild almost. It had made him the perfect candidate for what they had wanted him for. He didn't need to prove himself anymore. He had excelled mentally and through his career in the two years that Grace had been gone. If he was honest it became his focus and in a way his obsession.

Goren tuned back into Cecilia, she was still talking about work, something about the Mayor's recent charity work. His brain was accepting it, storing it all for future use if there was ever the need. Thats what he did, its what made him good at his job, an expert on people.

Goren reached out, his fingers gently tapping the back of Cecilia's hand to get her attention.

"I'm sorry but this isn't working out for me." he muttered as she stared at him mutely.

Goren withdrew his hand and took his wallet from his trousers tossing a few carefully selected bills down on the white tablecloth.

"Dinners on me." he told her raising to his feet and snatching up his overcoat from the back of the chair.

"By the way..." Goren started, leaning back over the table, so his eyes could meet Cecilia's moss green colored contact lenses. "The Mayor's not going to leave his wife."

Cecilia's hand clasped over her mouth as she gasped out loud.

"The key there is not to talk so much about the person your not supposed to be screwing." Goren explained, jabbing his finger at thin air to empathize the point before turning his back on her.

"Hope it works out well for you." he called out before stepping out the door.

* * *

Homicide, Grace decided, was a lot different from Vice. She had known that Homicide was an all boys club when she had been reinstated but she neglected to remember just how much. It seemed the majority of female detectives either went into Vice or Narcotics.

Homicide was apparently a prestige, something to be earned. According to the Commissioner she was at that level. She done some consultations for the NYPD before taking the job in Homicide. In reality, she was testing and honing her skills, seeing if they had faltered while she had been away. As it turned out it was as if she had never left.

Her advice had been right on the mark and had aided the apprehension of at least three suspects. Grace's input had been invaluable she'd been informed, she'd been compared to another raising star in the NYPD.

The atmosphere in Homicide had been mixed. Some of the older guys had welcoming, it was like the return of an old friend for them. There was a sense of unity she discovered, they'd all taken some hits at some point for the job and that was a rite of passage here. The older guys as it turned out didn't trust the newer guys, they were too fresh to have made a mark yet.

The older guys respected Grace, it hadn't been too long since she'd left and the case that she'd ended on, had done the rounds around the NYPD rumor mill especially after news of her imminent return. What they knew they kept to themselves and Grace was thankful for that. There were no questions about her health and well being, just slaps on the back for a welcome home gesture.

Her partner unfortunately turned out to be one of the newly made detectives. Grace knew his type straight off the bat. He was arrogant, and he looked down on her despite the fact she was the senior detective in their relationship. Why, she couldn't really say.

It could have been the fact she was a woman, or it may have just been the fact she was newly transferred in. She could tell in the way he squeezed her grip upon being introduced that there was going to be some blood shed between them.

The first case had come in not so much as thirty minutes of Grace being there. Already there had been a fight for the keys, she'd let him drive attempting to keep the peace at least for the minute, but already Martinez was getting on her nerves as he yakked away giving her the broadcast on "rise to power" as he termed it.

Hector Martinez's four year plan reminded her of Hitler's rise to power. It was despairing unrealistic. Captain in two years, she rolled her eyes. He'd be a Junior for at least that time.

"So whats your story?" Martinez queried as he took a turn a little too tight.

Grace clutched the leather upholstery on the seat as Martinez straightened out the SUV. Grace took a deep breath and clamped her lips together. The silence between them was ominous and Martinez couldn't take it for very long.

"I mean your NYPD right? I heard you were reinstated?" Martinez was glancing at her now as well as trying to keep his eyes on the road. "You hit a perp or something?"

Grace rolled her eyes at the assumptions, turning her head towards the window so he couldn't catch sight of her expression.

"Never hit one that didn't try and hit me first." she muttered, watching the colors and shapes as they breezed by the glass.

"Ain't that the truth." Martinez stated before pulling in behind a squad car, red and blues still flashing.

They were at the scene, a signal the conversation was over. Martinez seemed to accept that. Grace undid her seat belt, she frowned as she regarded the building across the street and then sighed.

"Uh, I think we're going to get shafted on this one." Grace uttered as she opened the car door.

"What do you mean?" Martinez asked following suit.

The two of them were standing outside the SUV now, surveying the scene from the gap in the crowd as uniforms fought back the press, waiting for the higher authority.

"This is Senator Morelli's place." Grace informed Martinez.

The two of them readied themselves before stepping forward. Grace took the lead, flashing her badge before ducking under the tape and striding towards the building ahead of them, both hands in the pockets of her over coat.

"You let anyone in yet?" she asked the uniform at the door.

Officer Patterson was an veteran of the force, Grace knew him by face but had to search his uniform for his name.

"No Ma'am, you'll be the first." he told her as Martinez came to stand along side her.

"Who found the body?" Grace asked as Officer Patterson opened the front door.

"The housekeeper Mrs Rodriguez, she doesn't speak a word of English. We're waiting for an interpretor." Officer Patterson informed the two of them.

Grace turned her head to Martinez.

"I only speak French. What about you?" she asked.

Martinez removed his note book from his pocket in response. He sighed deeply before taking off in the direction that Officer Patterson had indicated.

"The body is in the first bed room Detective." Officer Patterson told her, holding the door open.

"Thank you." she murmured before taking a step inside.

Grace began to ascend the stairs. Each step stole a little bit of her breath. It had been a while since she'd seen a live crime scene. She wondered how she was going to hold up. There was blood on the banister as if someone had let their hand trail along it. The killer perhaps?

She reached the top of the flight, the door to the master bedroom was already open. She could smell the stench of coppery blood from the doorway along with something else, something sweet that she couldn't place. She used her sleeve to cover her nose and mouth as her eyes took in the scene before her. Blood was splashed across the sheets, pooled in a thick puddle on the floor. Resting next to the senator on his night stand was the most intimate part of his anatomy.

There were footsteps on the stairs, Officer Patterson, she already knew by the deep huffs that resounded through the air as he stomped up the steps.

"You need to call Major Crimes." she told him, feeling her stomach wretch at the position of the Senator spread eagled corpse.

"I'm on it." he told, the color draining from his skin before he removed himself from the room.

"Oh and Patterson." she called after him. Patterson paused on the stairwell. Their eyes met, hers were furious and blue. "Not a word about the Senator to anyone We clear on that?"

Patterson nodded his response, glancing down at his own anatomy before retreating downwards onto the first floor to make that call.

_**Thank you very much to everyone who read and reviewed. It brightened my day. I've had two day off from work sick so I've been watching C.I and writing! Enjoy!**_

_Mominator: Thank you very much, I'm glad you like it. I hope I manage to keep you interested._

_Sky: Thanks for your review, fingers crossed on capturing your attention._

_Hope: I didn't expect to see you as a reviewer here but it's aways nice see a friendly face! I think Bobby's personality an be interpreted in different ways, but I'm glad you feel like I'm getting him right._


	3. Chapter 3: Read My Mind

Chapter Three

_Slipping on my faith until I fall,_

_You never returned that call_

_Woman, open the door and don't let it sting_

_I wanna breathe that fire again_

_The Killers – Read My Mind_

Grace stayed with the room, she leaned in the doorway letting her eyes take in the gore, watching as CSI photographed and cataloged the scene. She needed to see this, she needed to absorb it, take it in, steel herself against it. She could feel the focus burning in her mind, the intelligence of the crime, the anger and the rawness that littered the room like an echo. She could see the emotions from the posture of the body, they gave the crime essence and in a sickening way they made it more human.

The detective in her was coming out to play, the shock of the scene had worn off and left a canny interest to piece the puzzle together. Grace tilted her head, staring at the Senator's gaping mouth with a frown. This had to be personal. Senator Morelli had been alive and aware when they'd chopped off his member.

There were footsteps again on the stairs, hard ones and heavy. They were different from Patterson's, there was no trace of breathlessness as the Detective made his way up the stairs. Someone who kept himself fit, she mused without turning around. The stairs had very almost winded her with their extensiveness.

She wanted to study the scene for as long as impossible. Grace wanted to imprint it on her memory. It felt like her case now, she had a feel for it and she regretted calling in Major Crimes. Her insistence on the subject would be mistaken for glory. Finding the Senator's murderer would be a career maker, and Grace didn't want that.

Solving the case is what mattered to her not taking a step up the ladder. She wasn't sure why this one fascinated her so much. Perhaps it was an answer to a question, what could drive such a person to do such a thing?

There were multiple reasons, many she was familiar with and others she was sure she was not. But why this particular man and why this way? It played in her brain and poked at her thoughts. She could toss ideas round forever, without actually meeting the suspect there wasn't much chance of understanding the crime.

Grace thought she had a good idea though, someone had been a victim of the Senator she guessed. From the level of mutilation someone had wanted him to suffer for a very long time. His cause of death was likely through blood loss.

She felt a presence behind her, lingering. It was familiar and reassuring, it took her back to late nights filled with warmth and safety as rain pattered on the windows. His scent was fresh and clean, he smelt like soap and water just like always. His breath tickled her black short hair, he was standing close, well within her personal space but then again he had never made her feel uncomfortable and he wasn't about to start now.

The tension knotted her shoulders as she sighed deeply. It was a sign of admission, a flag of defeat. She had known she couldn't avoid him forever, they were bound to cross paths but she hadn't realized how quickly he had risen amongst the ranks. Although she had always known that he was brilliant.

"Hi Bobby." she said quietly, bowing her head and fiddling with the silver ring that adorned her finger.

It had been her mothers once upon a time, passed down to her only blood relative after she had died.

"Grace." he nodded, slipping past her in the doorway with barely a glance.

She hated the way he seemed so nonchalant, it discredited not only her but them, the relationship they had had. It had been important to her, as he had been. She couldn't have asked for a better lover, it just hadn't been enough to keep her in New York at that time. She had thought he understood that. Bobby snapped on a pair of latex gloves before touring the scene.

Despite their separation Grace felt like no time had passed at all as Bobby lurched into what she deemed "The Crime Scene Trance." He surveyed the scene from all angles, tilting his head, seeing things that other people didn't. He was unique and graceful for such a large man. He dodged blood pools with ease and vigor. She was enchanted by his movements, unable to take her eyes off him.

"Is this his..." Bobby asked, picking up the disjointed member between his thumb and forefinger.

"Bobby don't..." Grace began, her mouth hanging open as he wafted it under his nose before replacing it on the nightstand.

Goren turned to face Grace who was standing hands on her hips, her expression torn between shock and disgust.

"It smells like eucalyptus." he informed her.

Grace raised her eyebrows, her lips forming an 'O' as he spoke.

"I find it helps build a better picture if you use all your senses while investigating a crime scene." he informed her matter of factly.

Grace didn't know what to really make of that tidbit. She wasn't sure anyone else would either.

"Could be Triad related." A crime scene tech piped up. "I heard Morelli was into the finest White China, it makes sense he had a debt that was owed and couldn't pay it. We came across some scenes last year where the penis was cut off and put in the mouth and it turned out to be Triad."

"It's unlikely this was Triad related." Bobby informed the tech.

"Everything about this screams personal to me." Grace said into the open air. "No sign of forced entry, lights on a dimmer switch. Morelli is a big man, we'd see defensive marks if someone tried to forcefully strain him, there's no other way he would let set someone go at him like that."

"Eucalyptus massage oil, all though it's meant to be more of a decongestant than romantic." Bobby said rubbing his fingers together under his nose.

His eyes were on race as he spoke, open and knowing. Grace turned her head away feeling the flush in her cheeks, her pen tapped against her note pad as a distraction. She did not want to think about what Bobby's large, warm hands were capable of whilst lathered with massage oil.

"Can you find out if the Senator had a cold before his death? That should tell us whether this business or romance." Bobby pointed out.

Grace nodded her response, feeing her body begin to unwind at the sudden rush of heat that had flooded her. It was disrespectful and nauseating for her to be reliving her previous sexual encounters while there was a body in the room.

"Anything else?" she asked politely.

"I'd like you and Martinez to remain on this case. There's going to be a lot of ground work and a lot of dealing with the media. Your experience would be welcomed." Bobby spoke formally.

The truth was she knew he was awful with the media and worse with politics. He didn't shoot the shit as it were. Grace however had had more experience than most while dealing with several high profile cases before her flirtation with Vice.

Although he was clever, Goren always felt overwhelmed when dealing with a mob of microphones and cameras. He didn't care about the media, his thoughts were always with the job and not with handling the press. Although Eames was more media savvy, he knew she loathed having her face flashed in the paper. When it came to public speaking she loathed it with a passion he had never seen rivaled.

This case was going to go live and someone had to be a front man, Grace, he conceded was perfect. In the past she'd always handled the media well, it was impossible for the press to cast a bad light on her, she was good humored and appeared to be as helpful as could be despite the fact she was concealing information. In short the media had liked Grace and they were sure they would again.

The events of two years ago had been very hush, hush and they were both very aware of the promises that had been made to them by the higher ups. Grace's files were sealed, there was no way anyone could ever unlock the information buried inside them, anyone else who talked would suffer a retribution that was best not spoken of. The media had no been aware of the events and nor would they ever be.

"Two years in California was a very refreshing holiday, a good time in my life to try something new." she stated in reply to his unspoken question.

Goren knew he'd be hearing that line on TV some time in the near future.

It was strange for him seeing Grace again. It was like no time had passed between them. Her grimace was still the same, the crinkle at the edge of her eyes when she frowned hadn't changed. He had forgotten what it was like to be around her. Her scent had changed, she was wearing a different perfume, one that suited her better than the one he remembered. Her hair was shorter now, a sleek, jagged bob. It looked good on her, he wanted to run his hands through it as he pressed against her.

Yet his instincts had kicked in the moment he had realized it was her standing there in that doorway. His walls had shut down and his professional side had kicked in even more so than usual. He'd done his walk and used her as a sounding board instead of Eames, who was trapped in traffic. E was utilizing grace as one of his tools, something to help him solve the case. He had processed her assets long ago and he wasn't above using them to do what he needed to solve this case.

Goren knew Grace was fine with that, she had wanted this case. He had seen the hunger for it in her eyes when he'd first entered. Cases like this fascinated her, how a man in such a position of power had ended up like this.

So in the end they both got what they wanted, at least for now. His eyes lingered on her small frame , discreetly cataloging the differences in her frame and demeanor. She was tougher now, more aware and alert of her surroundings.

Grace had been a good cop back then it was his understanding that she would be better now. Her body was still lean, but different from the way it used to be. She was still running he could tell that from the strong, taunt thighs underneath her tight jeans. She'd taken up another sport while she'd been away, he couldn't tell exactly what but he thought probably surfing from her toned arms and torso.

She was still wicked smart, her intelligence gleamed in her eyes and her observation struck home. He was delighted in away to be working with her and saddened in a way too. There wasn't much of a trace of the person she used to be, warm hearted and loving. Her laugh used to lighten up his darkest days, just listening to that sound had made his heart lighter. Goren didn't think Grace had laughed much at all in the past two years.

Her voice was still rich and filled with something he couldn't read, she was shutting him out, her expression blank and her emotions locked down as she agreed o his offer.

The she was gone again, Goren's gaze trailing after her the way it had when she'd pulled away from his embrace and climbed in her car all packed up and ready to make her new home in another state.

He forced himself to look away. Some pain never faded, but Bobby Goren reconciled himself instead with the knowledge that it could be buried.

* * *

_**Sorry this has taken so long guys, been trying to get over being ill while launching Dan Brown's new book at work and working on the Xmas implementation (yes already). I've had this chapter half written for ages but it's now I've finally had the time to finish it. Enjoy!**_

_Star: lol thanks for your review. It was more about being able to control a situation than the actual person. I'm glad it's sticking with you!_

_Mom: Thanks for your support. I hope I manage to keep this story going!_

_Hope: Thank you very much. I'd have been devastated if I was Cecilia. Lol hope the penis thing wasn't too much in this chapter._


	4. Chapter 4: Partners Know Best

Chapter Four

_You could be taking it easy on yourself  
You should be making it easy on yourself  
Cause you and I know,  
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage_

_Catatonia – Road Rage_

The office was quiet, it was a busy week for Major Crimes and an even busier time period for Goren and Eames. They were sifting through Senator Morelli's accounts and finding more than enough dirty laundry to have Morelli buried in the ground three times over.

"Can you believe this?" Eames commented. "We have connections to drug lords, excessive gambling in high end casinos, and I'm guessing that all these massage parlors are a word for something else."

"Some massage parlors masquerade as brothels." Goren submitted, his left fist was closed in front of his mouth, his thinking stance.

Eames frowned, before resting her elbows on the desk and leaning forward. He'd been quiet in the car, quiet and distracted. She had an inkling as to why, it seemed to involve the return of Detective Grace Clementine. Eames wondered if there'd been something there once upon a time.

"Are you ok? You've been spacing out since we got back from the scene." Eames informed him, her fingers tapping the manila file underneath her hand.

Goren took his hand away from his mouth, Eames could read the tension set in his well built shoulders. He was preoccupied, it was different from the usual thought processing he went thorough. This was closed off, walls up. Yet she could sense exasperation there, an emotion she rarely associated with him.

"Yea, I'm fine." Goren responded rubbing his temples, with his own large left hand.

"Uh huh." Eames leaned back in her chair, tapping the pen laced in her fingers against her palm.

"You see I know that's not true. We've been partners for two years, you can't bullshit me." she told him, lips pursed together eyebrows raised, her expectant, no shit expression.

Goren opened his mouth to speak. Eames raised her hand to cut him off.

"And don't tell me it's the Wallace case." she told him drawing a line under their work.

Eames knew the release of Nicole Wallace had not only severely bruised her ego but it had also punched a hole right through Goren's. Nicole been snatched from his clutches at a truly pivotal moment of the interrogation.

Goren rose his eyes to the ceiling exhaling deeply. Eames cleared her throat and leaned back on the desk again, her lips twitching.

"Does it have anything to do with Detective Grace?" Eames questioned innocently.

Goren didn't say anything, instead looked down at his desk as he swiveled back and forth in his chair. She knew it was a struggle for him to talk about his personal life. Sometimes he tossed her a tidbit but they rarely spoke of what went on outside of work. Maybe that should change, she thought wistfully.

"Come on I saw the two of you making eyes at each other. Your interested, she's interested." Eames tilted her head from side to side. "It's a no brainer."

"Nobody's interested." Bobby informed her, slipping a file from the desk into his lap. "Just curious."

"Curious why she's back in New York again?" Eames pushed, knowingly. "You know I knew Grace before she left, we crossed paths a few times in Vice. She's a good cop."

He knew what she was really saying, she'd known Grace had a Detective boyfriend, she'd put the pieces together. His behavior, her behavior, and she'd solved the mystery. At least that's what she thought.

"You should go talk to her." Eames submitted, busying herself by reorganizing the files on her desk.

"I have nothing to say." Goren told her, looking at the file but not reading.

Eames rose to her feet, her hand resting on the desk as she gathered up numerous items. Her head was tilted down towards him, as he stared up at her.

"Bobby, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you always have something to say." Eames prodded gently before taking off towards the Captain's office.

Goren sighed out loud, pressing a hand to his forehead again.

Just maybe Eames was right.

* * *

Grace was tired, her muscles ached and her eyes burned from weariness. It had been a long couple of days. They had dragged on making her fed up and grouchy. This Senator case was running her down into the ground. She'd attended at least seven massage parlors along with some old school Vice detectives from her time there. Six were brothels, one was a genuine massage parlor with a call out service. Top off her Captain getting repeated calls from the Mayor's office requesting updates...

It made Grace irritable.

It had been exhausting shutting down each individual place and rehousing the girls. At the end of the days she knew it wasn't her job to care about them, but it didn't stop her. That's why she had transfered into Vice in the first place.

Homicide was empty, everyone was out on cases. Martinez was still sitting at his desk. His dark eyes were fixed upon her desk. His eyebrows were furrowed as he focused on it. Grace followed his gaze and stopped dead.

Her heart almost topped beating in her chest as her eyes came to rest on her seat.

Bobby was sitting there. His large frame fitted into her chair barely. His hands were parted on her desk, his eyes focused on the collection of items gathered in front of him, items that had been placed in certain areas all around her desk. They were now all clustered in the center.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Grace erupted, stepping up to her desk, her sky colored eyes darting everywhere.

"Huh, you have a picture of a Chocolate Brown Labrador." Bobby said holding up the gold plated frame for her to see.

Grace shrugged, resisting the urge to snatch the picture away from him. When people looked at her desk they saw similar things that were placed on their own. When Bobby looked at her desk he saw windows into her personal life, parts of her soul she didn't want to bear to him.

"So?"

"So, he makes you feel safe Labradors aren't violent unless they need to be. It's someone for you to cuddle, who'll always rely on you, who won't hurt you." Bobby said, meeting her gaze.

Grace bit her lip, shaking her head and wagging her finger. It wasn't fair. Bobby could see through her, he could tell her weakness and he was pressing on them. She knew why, that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Ah ha, no. You are not allowed to do that anymore."

"Do what?" Bobby questioned.

"No psychoanalyzing anymore." Grace reminded him, pointedly.

"Was that part of the deal? I didn't think it was." Bobby rose to his feet side stepping around the desk before leaning against it. "Or was that after the part where you'd call me when you came back to New York."

Bobby gestured with his hand while watching her intently. Grace bowed her head, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ok, you've made your point." she told him.

"Have I?" he questioned a little louder than he intended, hands on his hips.

"Look, let's take this somewhere else..." she said casting a glare in Martinez's direction.

Martinez wasn't even making an attempt to hide the fact he was listening in.

"Like the archive room in the library?" Bobby shot back, raising his eyebrows.

Grace's eyes went wide, her cheeks flushing with color as she drew in a deep breath to steady herself, she was inches away from lashing out. Her temper wasn't what I used to be, but she has to admit after the past few days and faced with Bobby's sniping witticisms, she was inches away from tearing off his head.

"That was low." she chastised him.

"Yea." Bobby admitted, feeling appalled at the negative emotions she brought out in him. "I know."

Grace pouted, something he had not seen her do in years. She was waiting, her expression expectant as she waited for him to make a decision.

"Your right, let's go somewhere." he said taking her arm gently.

She didn't seize up underneath his touch like the last time he'd reached out for her and that was something. Bobby used her new found trust to guide her in the direction of the exit.

"I will buy the coffee." he offered, releasing her arm lightly.

It shocked him how much he still liked touching her, he wanted to put his hand on her lower back, just below the template of red scars he knew that marred her skin. He knew that would be too much for Grace, too familiar and too overwhelming.

"And pie." she bartered as they stepped over the threshold. "I think that deserved pie."

"And pie." Bobby agreed before holding open the door to the station house so she could pass through.

* * *

_**I had this one written not long after ch3 but I haven't had a chance to post it, with work being so busy and settling things before I leave for a two week hol! Yay! So hopefully I will be putting more writing time in. Enjoy and thankies to the reviewers!**_

_Hope: lol thank you so much. I wanted to make her on par with Bobby but different if that makes sense. _

_Star: lol I'm not sure how I'm playing the relationship between Eames and Bobby yet, for the moment just partners but who knows what can happen. I keep a very open mind with my for the review!_


	5. Chapter 5: You and Me

Chapter Five

_All of the things that I want to say  
Just aren't coming out right  
I'm tripping inwards  
You got my head spinning  
I don't know where to go from here_

_Lifehouse – You and Me_

The bistro was a small place tucked away under an red and white striped awning, It was hidden down a set of concrete stairs, five minutes away from the station house. The scent of fresh coffee filled Grace's nose as she strode carefully after Bobby, trying to avoid treading snow inside the warm atmosphere.

Bobby held open the door to the bistro stamping his own feet as he clutched the handle. He had found this little place a while ago through a friend in the Court House. He remembered thinking back then just how much Grace would love a place like this. It was quiet and intimate.

Bobby enjoyed it's privacy and it's warmth. It filled him with a sense of comfort to enjoy this place, his own personal haven. Now he was introducing Grace to it, showing her a piece of himself and giving her some insight into his psyche. The truth was he wanted to see her expression when she saw the bistro and the delight in her features when she sampled the food. For his first wish he wasn't disappointed.

Grace's bright blue eyes lit up as she studied her surroundings, the blast of hot air shook the chill out of her bones as Bobby weaved his way towards a table. A discreet, private four legged affair draped in a cream colored cloth. Bobby lingered behind her, reaching out and helping Grace out of her coat.

The gesture was familiar, he had always been a gentleman, that was what Grace had loved most about him. She couldn't help but think they didn't make men like Bobby anymore. He draped her coat on the back of her chair before pulling it out for her. Grace took her seat, watching Bobby as he came to sit down in front of here.

He was almost the same as when she had left, the differences were subtle and deeper. It was the fact he rarely seemed to smile anymore. His shoulders were always taunt, his back was straight and guarded. His eyes didn't glitter with the same warmth they used to. His presence was fierce, and overwhelming. She felt no softness in it only a seemly mechanical impulse to preform such actions.

She didn't want to talk, she wasn't actually sure how she ended up here. She'd seen a glimmer of the old Bobby, the one that let himself become consumed with emotion and she'd gone along with it. Now that she was sitting here facing him, there was a flutter of panic in her chest. She didn't know what to say, how to put things right or how to change them. She wasn't even sure if that was what either of them wanted. All she knew was they would have to work together and a cordial relationship was essential to making that happen.

"Do you still take your coffee with cream?" he asked her politely, snapping her out of her thoughts

Grace nodded, as Bobby gave their food order. Chocolate pie for Grace and lemon pie for him, their favorite flavors. No one else would remember details like that but Bobby... he always knew what she wanted.

Grace's cheeks flushed a little at that thought. It had been a long time since she'd had sex, and the last man that had touched her she preferred not to think about. It made her raw and unsteady. She felt her color blanch before she managed to force it all back.

"Grace." Bobby uttered, his fingers stretching out across her hand and encompassing it tenderly.

His eyes were on her intently, piercing through her defenses and into the depths of her soul. Grace pulled away her slender hand and dropped it into her lap as she tilted her head, her hair falling over her face. She heard his sigh, feeling his disappointment as it rippled through the air between them.

"You still think about it?"

It was a question he didn't need to ask, he could read it in her facial features, the way her jaw clenched and her teeth ground together. There was silence as the waitress set their hot beverages in the center of the table.

"I still dream about it." she conceded, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup.

She didn't meet his gaze, she refused to show him the shame she felt, the guilt that still plagued her. He didn't need to see how damaged she still was, how two years in California had done very little to cure her psyche.

"You don't need to be scared anymore." he said, reaching forward, his large warm hands covering her own. "Jack's gone."

Grace rose her eyes to meet his gaze, their eyes met, and suddenly the connection was wide open. She saw his concern, his desire to help, all the things his mouth couldn't say because his brain had evaluated the risks.

"He's still here." she said tapping her temple.

"How often?" Bobby asked, his fingers knotted together in front of him.

"Often enough." she responded, pursing her lips together grimly. "My therapists says it's the mind's way of coping with what happened to me. That I'm processing."

Bobby took this in, the acknowledge of a therapist meant that she was dealing with her demons or at least trying. He hadn't bothered with the shrink, he hadn't needed to was the long and short of it all. He kept those things buried underneath the surface.

Grace's blood all over his hands, her weight in his arms as he carried her crippled and bleeding. Her pale hand was flaccid and limp, her flesh bruised and drained of life. The acrid smoke choking his lungs and burning at his eyes as his feet trampled across the wooden floor. The soles of his shoes hot and melting from the flames beneath it. He remembered hoping and praying that the floor would take their weigh, that it wouldn't fall through. His right foot had gone through the brittle floorboards, he'd managed to pull it out, keep going. That was the only consistent thought in his head.

Keep going.

The waitress broke through his reverie by setting the lemon pie plate down in front of him. Bobby leaned back in his seat thanking her before picking up his fork and poking at the dessert dish. He didn't feel hungry anymore.

His eyes rose to Grace, her fork was already embedded in her pie and she was raising it to her lips. He had to give her points for normalcy. She was refusing to let the events of two years ago rule her life, hence why she was back here doing the job she had loved.

Bobby watched as she opened her mouth and took a bite, the noise she emitted was a moan of pure bliss as she chewed the pie enthusiastically, before scooping up more onto her fork.

"Jesus Bobby, this pie is amazing." she uttered, breaking into a wide smile and jabbing her fork at her pie.

"It's nice to see your tastes haven't changed." Bobby returned, feeling the warm flood back into his body once more.

"Not when it comes to pie." she agreed heartily.

Bobby used his fork to mimic her actions, he wasn't really tasting his dessert, despite the fact he knew that was a dire waste of good pie. Eames would have chewed him out for that.

"You wanna taste mine?" he offered, his plate already in hand and breaking a piece off to slide onto her dish. "The lemon is better than the chocolate, the chocolate's too sweet."

Grace pulled a face at his words before sampling the lemon pie, tilting her head from side to side before she made displayed her opinion.

"They're both just so good." she said finally, trying to weigh up the options.

"You always know the good places to eat." she stated, pointing her fork at him, her mouth still full. "Do you still make that fantastic Carbonara? I really missed that. No one can cook in California it's awful."

"Anyone cook for you in California?" Bobby inquired.

Grace shrugged, her gaze downcast.

"One or two people." she sighed, before putting her fork down on he empty pie dish and wrapping her hands around her coffee cup.

"It was just never the same." she shrugged.

"Their pasta or the dating?" Bobby asked, tucking into his own pie.

Grace rolled her eyes before slumping back in her seat, feeling tired and full.

"Did we come here so you could evaluate my social life over the past two years?" she questioned.

Bobby shrugged his large shoulders, still chewing as his gaze dropped to his food.

"We came here to talk and that's what we're doing." he informed her.

"You wanna know why I didn't call." she reminded him.

Bobby set his fork down and pushed his plate away.

"It would have been nice to know you were back in the city before we ran into each other at a crime scene." he pointed out.

Grace clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. Her eyes strayed over Bobby's features, his already knowing expression imploring her to be honest.

"I ran away from you because I couldn't deal with what happened to me." she lowered her eyes. "You wanted to help and I couldn't accept that. It couldn't be the way it was between us after that. Nothing could go back to normal. You were too much of a reminder of the life I lost."

Bobby bowed his head, nodding his understanding.

"I got that... I understood that you couldn't be with me after what happened because I was too much of a reminder." Bobby ran his hands through his hair. "I should have stuck with you that night, I shouldn't have left you alone in that alley."

"You couldn't have known that wasn't Jack, we were on the look out for anything that night. A pro fighting with a john it could have been Jack." Grace reasoned.

"We thought it was our lucky break. Instead you got a stun gun to the chest." Bobby said quietly, pressing his clasped hands to his forehead as if in prayer.

"I'm still alive." Grace told him, she leaned forward resting on her elbows.

Her small hands reached out as Bobby set his large fists down on the surface of the table. Grace's fingers slid across his knuckles, her hands resting gently over his.

"You had a part to play in that." she reminded him. "I wouldn't be here without you."

Bobby shook his head unable to speak, his thumb smoothed over Grace's hand lightly as the same thought echoed through his brain. He wished he'd gotten there sooner.

The only constellation was that Grace hadn't ended up carved up the way the other girls had. She hadn't ended up gutted on the streets like the others, that didn't mean he hadn't done some damage. The scars on her back were testimony to that.

Jack had found Grace's I'D in the sequined hand bag along with her service pistol, figured out he'd grabbed a cop instead of one of the pros he'd been practicing on. Of course with Grace dressed up like a pro he hadn't been able to tell the difference until he unzipped the purse. Then Jack, well he'd decided to have a little fun.

He's spent hours with her before Bobby had been had an inkling of a location. That was because the higher ups had been procrastinating. Their Chief hadn't oked the operation, the head of Vice didn't want Grace's blood on his ambitious, money grabbing hands. Goren had gone straight to the top, disobeying his superior's bid for silence.

An hour later the hunt had started.

Bobby wasn't sure how long the two of them stayed like that. Having her back in his hands brought things back, feelings of sadness and regret, of longing and desire. He wanted to take her home and make it all up to her, convince her that the past was dead. That the two of them could make it work again.

Instead he withdrew, his walls dropping down, his emotions being pulled into check. He was blocking out the memories, and the feelings she stirred within him. He was blocking out her.

"I gotta get back, follow up some leads on the case." he muttered.

His hands broke away from hers. He slipped his wallet out of his trousers and laid a few bills on the center of the table between them. Grace stood up at the same time as he did, snatching up her long black coat and yanking it on.

"Your mad." he stated, pulling on his own coat, watching as her fingers deftly buttoned hers.

Grace bit the inside of her cheek and rose her eyes skyward for a second.

"It's just the way things turn out I guess." she uttered smoothly. "Thanks for the pie."

Bobby didn't have time to respond, she was already gone, the jingling of the bistro door chiming merrily behind her.

_**Hey. This chapter has been a long hard one to write. Let me know what you think. Thanks for your support.**_

_Hope: For some reason I could totally see Bobby doing that, and he messes up her order. She likes things being put in the right place. I wanted to put Eames in it somewhere._

_Mom: I hope this gives you some more insight into things. Thanks for giving my story a chance._


	6. Chapter 6: Never Underestimate A Girl

Chapter Six

_She makes it look easy  
In control completely  
She'll get the best of you...every single...time  
Thought by now you'd realize you should  
Never underestimate a girl_

_Vanessa Hudgens – Never Underestimate A Girl_

The bathwater was hot and soothing as it caressed Grace's skin. Thick luscious bubbles floated along the surface glittering and relaxing the aching muscles of her body as she sunk down in the suds. She had deserved this.

She needed something to rid her mind of the events from the past few days. She had forgotten what it was like trying to distance yourself away from police work. To go home at the end of a long day and switch off.

A steak was marinating in the fridge in her momma's secret sauce, a potato baking in the oven. An open bottle of red wine was resting on the work surface of the kitchenette, breathing. It was a good vintage. She hadn't felt the need for such indulgence for a long time.

Grace closed her eyes against the light in the bathroom, letting her mind wander across the silence of her brownstone bungalow. After selling her mother's house she had bought this little place. It was perfect for her and Charlie, she'd chosen it for the garden at the back, so he could play and enjoy the sunshine in the summer months.

The dog walker had worn Charlie out by taking him to the nearby park and playing ball with him. It was important for Charlie to get exercise when Grace wasn't here which was the main reason she had hired the walker. Although she felt bad about not being able to take Charlie out herself sometimes. She loved that dog, he had adjusted to their move well. He seemed to love New York even more than California, and that made Grace happy.

Charlie had been her companion for over eighteen months now. When she was jumping at shadows and freaking out over strange noises, her therapist back in California had recommended a dog. It created a sense of security Grace needed back in her life and gave her a focus, puppies were out of the question so she had gone to the local rescue center and found Charlie.

Charlie was a chocolate brown Labrador with big soulful eyes and a friendly disposition. The moment Grace had laid her eyes on him, she knew that this was her dog. Add to that that Charlie seemed to have a fantastic knack for interpreting his owner's feelings, and he was the perfect pet.

Grace had let him chase the mail man down the block after several inappropriate comments during the time she was still getting back on her feet. He'd proven himself her savior at some of the darker moments she'd been struggling with.

When she used to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, heart pounding, tears streaming down her face, Charlie was there. His chin would rest on the edge of the bed, his tail wagging as he whined, looking up at her, his doe eyes filled with love and adoration. She'd let him climb onto the bed then, he'd curl up in front of her as Grace buried her face into his fur and cuddled him close.

Charlie had been her comfort back then and some nights... He still was.

Grace tilted her head back against the bathtub and let out a blissful sigh, something was niggling at her. She could feel it twitching at the darkest recess of her mind. Something she'd noticed, but not really been paying attention too.

Massage parlors, prostitutes, call out service, the odd one out.

The one that wasn't a brothel.

The Senator was known for his wild side. He had called that place, it was on his call log two weeks ago. Was it simply for a massage?

The thought in her brain triggered. She hadn't been paying much attention at the time, she was tired and that was the last place they had hit. The hostess had been guarded to start with, Grace had thought it was because of the uniforms trampling through the residence, but there was something else in it.

When they had the staff lined up, the hostess always lingered around one in particular. It was protective, Grace had thought a motherly instinct, but the more she thought about it the more she saw in it. The way the younger girl was withdrawn and quiet, physically flinching when Martinez brushed past her. She had avoided speaking, her arms were hugging a thick sweater to her body despite the fact Grace had been sweating in the waiting room.

Grace bolted up right in the water, taking a burst of air as the signs clicked into place. Signs she was no stranger to herself. Maybe the Senator had taken what he wanted after he realized he'd made a mistake.

Grace rose up from the bathtub, water dripping off her naked form, the air chilling her skin abruptly as she stepped out of the ceramic tub. She reached for the towel, avoiding the glimpse of her nude body in the mirror as she moved past it. She used the mirror to put on her make up in the morning and pull back her hair, otherwise she barely looked in it.

The towel was already wrapped around her smooth body, her hands reaching for the hair tie she'd placed on the sink beside the tap. It was too late to be calling Martinez, he was on a date and if she recalled, it was lucky number three. He would not be welcoming an interruption, just as much as Grace would not welcome his questions.

She unlocked the bathroom door and strode quickly towards her bedroom. She signed staring at her clean laundry pile with remorse. There wasn't a chance in hell she could leave this until tomorrow to follow up, it would prod her until she decided to do something about it.

Grace tugged on a pair of clean jeans before yanking on a midnight blue v-neck top. Ankle boots followed suit before she went through into the kitchen, and turned off the oven staring remorsefully at her half cooked jacket potato.

"It just wasn't meant to be was it Charlie?" she mused to the dog curled up in his basket staring up at her.

Charlie barked his response, making Grace smile as she snatched up her leather jacket and purse from the kitchen counter.

"I'll try not to be late." she promised Charlie before ducking out of the front door and locking it firmly behind her.

* * *

Bobby was awake, the caffeine rushing through his veins had put his senses on high alert as he sat across form Eames sifting through the mountains of paperwork that littered their desks.

"I'm having a hard time believing that anyone wouldn't want to kill this guy, his sexual harassment claims are through the roof." Eames muttered, her head bowed as she read through the file in front of her diligently.

"So are his DUI's." Bobby commented, his cheek resting on his fist as he flicked through the papers with his left hand.

"I think I have something that maybe able to help." Grace said, striding in and up to their desks, a manila file clasped in her hand.

Bobby's head swiveled towards her, as she stood at the edge of the joint desk unit. Eames rose her eyebrows expectantly, resting her chin on her hands her eyes on the younger woman as she stood before them.

Eames was mindful of Grace, she always found herself studying the other woman. She was different now. She was more guarded, her defenses were always up and she was watchful, outside her eyes were always scouting out possible threats and evaluating them. Paranoia, Eames thought, you couldn't have enough of it in this job.

Eames couldn't help but think that Grace was going to be her puzzle.

Bobby was the one that got the riddles, clipped all the abstract clues together, after she dragged out the information and laid it down on the table. That was part of why they worked so well. He gave an out of context view to the cases they handled which led to the two of them having the highest closure rate in Major Case. Eames was no Tonto herself, she was sharp and she was quick to understand the implications of their cases whereas Bobby did not.

There was something about Grace that seemed off, things that Eames didn't think added up. Back in Vice she's been a good cop, willing and sharp. She'd always smiled. They were used to not talking about their cases, Vice required a lot of U.C work from it's female counter parts and keeping your mouth shut was essential when in the throes of an investigation.

Eames found it odd that Grace decided to leave the state just after several higher ups were pushed into early retirement. Then for Grace to return...

Things like that in the NYPD were practically unheard of.

Asking Bobby seemed out of the question. It would cross a personal boundary that she wasn't sure she wanted to step over. She had no doubt that he would tell her something, maybe give her snippets if it was too private but she knew he would expect something in return, some personal exclamation of her own and Eames just wasn't ready to share.

So for the meantime Eames pushed her curiosities to the back of her mind and focused on the case ahead of them.

"Gloria Estabar, she works at one of the more legal massage places. One that doesn't put a few extras on the side." Grace began, laying her file on the desk space between the two of them and opening it.

"Seems like a rare jewel in this city." Eames commented, leaning up in her seat to scan Grace's paper work.

Grace tilted her head towards the other woman, rising her eyebrows in conspiracy.

"That was my exact thought." she uttered, before getting out the highlighted call sheet and pointing to the line.

"We know that Miu Miu Massage was called by the Senator at five fourteen. Gloria Estabar was dispatched. By eight, this hospital report states that she was being examined after claiming she was sexually assaulted, she never gave a name and a few hours later this..." Grace held up the thin police report on the accusations. "This was dropped."

Bobby leaned back in his hair, his hand by his mouth again as he considered the options. Eames clasped her hands together and set them on her lap, her eyes on her partner as he swiveled in his chair.

"So we're thinking that Estabar was an unwilling participant?" he said, his hand rubbing across his lips.

"The evidence is in this report. She had tearing consistent with rape." Grace informed the two of them, her back straight as she looked down at them. "The lab's already running a test to match the Senator's DNA to the DNA that was inside Gloria Estbar."

"You look like you've got this all figured out." Bobby remarked form his side of the desk.

Grace shrugged, not rising to the bait.

"I have a few ideas. For this crime, this motive fits." Grace told him.

"You wanna go for a ride to the Upper East and bring in Estabar?" Bobby asked Eames, as she put her hand on Grace's case file and pulled it around towards her.

"You two go." Eames said waving her hand in Grace and Bobby's direction. "I wanna make sure we've doted our I's and crossed our T's here."

Grace knew not to take Eames second glance at her work to heart. With a case getting this much media attention, it was important to make sure they played it straight, she knew Eames wasn't doubting her.

Bobby rose to his feet, his lips pursed together tightly before she narrowed his eyes at Eames who gave him a wide grin. Grace turned her back on he two of them, her arms folded across her chest as she rose her eyes skyward.

"You two kids have fun." Eames called out as the two of them set off into the icy cold evening.

* * *

_**A dull chapter I know, let's see how the rest pan out.**_

_Mom: I'm hoping so too. I have plans for them. By the last ep of Season 2 they are def together. I'm just taking my time with this. Are you finding it frustrating?_

_Hope: I'm glad your really liking it. It gets a little worse when you find out what the scars on her back are actually like. You compliments really make me smile._


	7. Chapter 7: Rats

Chapter Seven

_There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface  
Consuming/confusing  
This lack of self-control I fear is never ending_

_Linkin Park - Crawling_

The sound was on high on the TV, he didn't want to miss a single word as he sat perched on the edge of his seat. His eyes were wide and intent, fixed on the screen soaking up every living detail of the woman on the screen in front of him.

Her hair was shorter than it used to be, it was straight now instead of the loose tumbling curls he was used to raking his fingers through. Her dark eyes were controlled and focused, fixed on the paper in front of her, before she glanced up spearing him straight through his chest. He remembered her voice differently, low and dangerous, threatening, and then high pitched and in pain.

The memory of cutting into her sent shivers up his spine, he moistened his lips imaging the rivets of vibrant blood trailing across pale skin and down the curve of her spine. He had licked the first droplet as it struck her rounded buttock.

He'd never been so invigorated until he'd had her, all the others had begged and screamed. Tears, did nothing for him. He felt no sympathy as he cut up the whores. It was the last one, he thought as he ran his hand down the left side of his face, his fingertips smoothing over the puckered flesh, the last one had truly given him the pleasure he'd craved.

She was the challenge.

He rubbed his palm against the ragged skin just under the right side of his collarbone.

Tit for tat, he thought smiling, his index finger circling the jagged bullet hole.

The game, as Sherlock Holmes had once said, was afoot and two years ago, the serial killer formerly known as Jack had fooled them all.

* * *

It was blood, she could taste the copper in her mouth. It was all over her hands, her face, her body from the tiny cuts that had been administered everywhere on her body. Sandi knew he was sick the moment she looked at the skin on his face, it was red and part of his mouth was twisted into a grimace. Why else would a guy in thousand dollar suit be in the Bronx looking for prostitute? Why else would his eyes look so hollow?

She thought maybe she wanted to rescue her. That the two of them were sick and that he'd see that in her and decide that they could help each other. An almost handsome guy in a suit, it was a fairy tale come true.

He was wearing leather gloves, she liked the feel of them on her skin as he led her down a set of stairs and into a room somewhere underneath the floorboards. Sandi was always frightened when she was a lone with a john. Usually they only wanted to get their rocks off, but there had been a few clients that Sandi now avoided because they had hurt her. Yet this man, he had been friendly and sweet. She thought he was nervous, she had told him things, about her day, about cereal and whatever sprung to mind to help him relax. Make him think like this was a proper date.

It had been him who'd pulled out the syringe and asked her if she wanted to shoot up first. She'd gotten antsy about that, she wanted to remember this time, she knew it would be different compared to the others. A rich guy would be something she could think about on long, cold nights. It would give her hope. She had refused. He was so kind and caring in the way he spoke and then...

Everything had changed.

She hadn't seen the needle coming, all she'd seen was darkness as the room tilted and shook. Her cheek pressed against the concrete floor as her eyes went wide. Black shoes was the last thing she remembered seeing. Black polished shoes with a shiny tip and laces. Devil's shoes, remembered thinking, to go with the devil's suit.

Sandi had no idea how long she had been in this place, all she knew was it felt like forever. Her wrists and ankle were bound to something that felt cold and metallic. A headboard she guessed. The mattress she lay on was filthy, she could feel things crawling all over her biting and scraping at her skin.

She wasn't wearing any clothes and there was something congealing and dry on her thighs. She'd managed to go to a different place while he'd been on top of her. She'd gone to her special place, the one with the roaring ocean and the beach.

It had been harder when he was cutting her. The pain had jerked her out of her private world and back to reality, back to him slicing off pieces of her skin. His brows were furrowed as he concentrated, he was designing something she wasn't sure what but there were a lot of straight lines.

The flashes of red hot pain were nauseating and violent. Each one hit her with more rigor than the last. He took out a damp cloth and wiped away the blood that had pooled down her back before continuing his work.

That had been yesterday, and now he was standing over her again, the sharp ache of her spine made tears run down her cheeks as gummy fluid made the mattress stick to her skin.

"Don't worry baby, we're almost done." he murmured, glancing up at her eyes as he set the scalpel down on the metal tray beside the bed.

His voice was different now, it was rough and harsh. His mouth constantly twisted in the perverse grin when he looked at her. She disgusted him, she could tell from the tutting underneath his breath every time she whimpered and cried. That's why he'd gagged her in the end. A ball gag bought from a sex shop, she recognized it from some of the movies johns had made her watch. It choked her, stretching her lips and cramping her tongue.

She wasn't like That One, he told her. She submitted too easily. She should be fighting instead of begging. She wasn't good enough for anything but the rats.

The mention of rats sent her body into panic. He liked that. She'd arched, bucked and flailed against the bonds, yanking pulling and tearing at them.

Rats, he told her would eat anything. Living or dead.

Although, he'd told her. They didn't really like loud noise.

He was packing up his tools now. Everything except the ball gag.

He was leaving her there, alone and immobile.

As if reading her mind, he smiled. He smoothed the hair away from her face before pulling away and peeling off the dark blue, latex gloves.

"Don't worry baby, I'm not leaving you all alone." he told her, setting the leather gloves to rest on her naked stomach.

It was the first time she saw his hands, they were vivid red, the flesh snarled and grotesque. Still all of his fingers worked, she knew that from experience. He tugged the leather gloves on one at a time.

"Some little friends of mine are on the way." he informed her with a wide grin.

Sandi lay still, waiting until he had closed the door behind him before making her move. She thrashed at her restraints, trying to yank them form the metal poles that held her in place. They didn't buckle, she couldn't move.

There was a scratching sound coming from somewhere underneath her. The sound of tiny claws scrapping across wood, along with scurrying and then a frantic rustle. Sandi's breathing became shallow as it dawned on her what was making that noise.

Then the nibbling started.

* * *

_**No reviews :( Am I losing my touch?**_


	8. Chapter 8: Tell Me Why

Chapter Eight

_I'm sick and tired of your attitude  
I'm feeling like I don't know you  
You tell me that you want me then cut me down_

_Taylor Swift – Tell Me Why_

The silence was comfortable, Grace was surprised to find that after all this time she could be alone with Bobby and not feel the urge to say a single word. There wasn't much left to say after the bistro. She was mad at him, and mad at herself. She was as closed off and guarded as he was, they were both stubborn and that was their downfall.

It made her sad to think that the relationship had ended like this. Two years ago it felt right to walk away and leave. It had been an act of self preservation, she couldn't stand feeling vulnerable, all the wounds were raw and ripped right open. Then Bobby...

He'd started to treat her like glass.

That had made everything worse. She wanted to forget what had happened but she couldn't, every time she looked at him she knew he saw a victim. It was the little things, like the way he stopped touching her, even the barest brush of skin was enough to make him take a step back and evaluate her.

In the end she couldn't live like that, Bobby was working whilst she was stuck on sick leave ,not really doing anything besides floating. She hadn't felt like she existed in those days, she had simply been a ghost. She wasn't sure when she snapped, or even how it happened. There had been nothing to set it off, but the pressure she thought had been growing since she'd gotten out of the hospital.

One day she simply packed her bags, a friend had offered her a place to say if she had ever decided to vacation there. This was the only time she considered accepting it. When Bobby had got home that night they had talked. It had been calm and rational. The fight had gone from her. She couldn't be angry at him, and she knew he understood. In fact it was him that had driven her to the airport.

There were no goodbye kisses, no hugs for reassurance, only the words cold and empty ringing in her ears.

Bobby, she'd realized by that point had already withdrawn.

The car was slowing down now Grace noticed, in fact it was coming to a stop. She shook off her thoughts and was surprised to find herself staring at the porch of her bungalow. She turned her head towards Bobby, her expression one of supreme puzzlement.

His head tilted towards her. His eyes were on her lips as she stared up at him trying to work out why they were here and not on their way to pick up their witness. Grace leaned forward, she wasn't sure why but she wanted him to feel what it was like to be close to her again. She wanted him to stop acting cold and feel something.

"Your tired." he told her. "And your off the clock."

Grace said nothing she simply rose her eyes to meet his gaze. Her lips parted, her body arching in her seat. Bobby looked down at her, his eyebrows raised before he covered her mouth gently with his large hand.

"Don't do it Grace." he said reproachfully, shaking his head.

Grace felt something leave her body, she felt empty and weak inside. Bobby reached down and unclipped her seatbelt. Grace said nothing as she threw the door to the SUV open. The humiliation was burning up inside, causing her cheeks to flush and her eyes to water. She knew things could never be the same between them. He couldn't get past it all. All Bobby Goren saw was the victim, the cowed, broken specter of what she used to be.

Grace slammed the car door with all the force she could muster. She wasn't beyond showing emotions, she couldn't be clinical and abstract the way he was. Her throat burned as she swallowed hard, taking long strides towards the house, her heels clicking on the path.

What had she been thinking? She wondered. How could she expect him to feel the same after what had happened? Why the hell had she come back to this place?

She stopped at the door, her hands fumbling in her bag for the familiar key ring she had for everything. She didn't hear the footstep on the porch, she didn't even know he was there until his hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"Don't be like this." Bobby whispered.

Grace exhaled deeply, putting a hand to her head and letting herself lean against his warm solid chest. Bobby's lips pressed against her head, his eyes were closed as he reveled in her warm presence. She was safe, she was under his hands, she was right here. Still standing and strong.

"You act like our relationship never happened." she accused, tipping her head back and closing her eyes tightly as a tears trickled down her cheeks. "You act like we never lived together, like you never asked me to marry you."

Bobby didn't know what to say, he was overwhelmed by the breaking of her voice, by the emotions and the memories that flooded his system and stole away his breath.

"I can't be involved with you Grace." he told her stiffly. "It makes me lose my mind thinking that something could happen to you again and I can't do that."

Grace snorted before taking a step forward, out from under his hands and towards the shelter of her own home, the keyring clasped between her fingers.

"Nobody quite knows how to cut me the way you do Bobby." she informed him.

Bobby flinched at her choice of words. Grace stuck her key into the lock and twisted it so the door swung open. She could barely bring herself to look at him.

"Next time you need someone to step up and play the face of your investigation, do it your God damn self." she told him, before stepping inside the Bungalow and slamming the door firmly shut behind her.

The drive was long and meaningless, Bobby Goren did nothing but sit and traffic and think. They were thoughts he didn't not want to confront, images he did not want to see, knowledge he couldn't stand to know. Police reports danced in front of his eyes as if he was reading them again for the first time, her doctor's reports, her three day coma.

The panic, the rage, the fear, they flooded him the same way they had back them making him want to turn the car back around and rush back to her house. He would not do that, he would not fall into Grace again. He would distance himself from her, he could not be involved. It had been too damaging, he had become too fractured. He disliked the insecurity that plagued him at the moment. He was always strong, and focused.

Now his mind was in disarray, his emotions out of check and rebounding around his brain.

He couldn't work with her, he knew that now and he'd see that tomorrow she would be taken off this case and kept as far as away from him as Homicide could manage. Their paths would cross again but it wouldn't matter, because he would be immune to her.

It was perverse that he could separate himself from someone he had planned to spend his life with, it was masochistic and a form of self mutilation, yet he knew that Gage would be driving him to do this.

His mentor's voice, even now, was ringing in his head just like it had back then, telling him to cut Grace off. She was making him weak, her dependency was stifling his genius and that could not be allowed. Bobby Goren was set for greatness and Grace was holding him back.

He didn't need emotions getting in the way of his logical mind and he knew in the end Gage had been right about that, he had succumbed and pushed himself away from Grace when she'd needed him the most, and he had rose quickly in the ranks. He was highly recommended in the NYPD.

Yet it didn't fill the gap in his chest, the hollow hole that nothing seemed to fit. It hit him during the darkest nights as he lay in bed staring at the light cascading through the window across the ceiling. He missed the way she curled up on her side, the covers wrapped around her body, her hair tickling his face as he buried his face in it. He missed the swirling patterns he used to doodle on smooth, unmarked flesh of her back and the little whimpers she made as his hands moved lower.

He missed seeing that smile light up whatever room she walked into, and that look...

The one that he knew was only meant for him while he watched her walk across the room.

There was something so terrible about having her back in his life again, something frightening.

And unfortunately for Grace, Bobby Goren didn't do frightened.

_**Hey guys, thanks for the reviews. I've been working manically on chapter nine and I'm content I've finished it.**_

_Hope: Thankies, I thought people would find that chapter boring. Thank you for your kind words!!_

_Mom: lol Charlie was completely random. It made me shiver writing it!!!_


	9. Chapter 9: Hot N Cold

Chapter Nine

_'Cause you're hot then you're cold  
You're yes then you're no  
You're in then you're out  
You're up then you're down  
You're wrong when it's right  
It's black and it's white  
We fight, we break up  
We kiss, we make up_

_Katy Perry – Hot N Cold  
_

When the words "give em hell" were created they were obviously not meant in a literal circumstance. Yet that was exactly what Grace Clementine was about to do when she found Bobby Goren, she was going to tear off his head and do things to his body that he was going to be feeling for the next ten generations. Grace couldn't control the fury that rampaged through her veins as she marched through the Major Cases department, foaming for blood.

"Where is he?" she hissed, barely audible as she drew up close to Eames's desk.

The other woman looked up at her, unable to hide her expression of surprise as she reviewed Grace's demeanor. There was a fire raging inside the other woman and Eames for a second was glad to finally see some real emotion from the other woman. Grace's small hands were bunched into fists, her face taunt and her nostrils flared.

"I don't know." Eames shrugged casually. "He's usually in before me."

This was something she knew she didn't want to get in the middle of, she knew what Bobby had done and she did not approve. On the other hand it was nice to see Grace acting a little more like her old self as opposed to the aloof demure creature she'd been like recently.

"Maybe we should go for a coffee, calm you down a little." Eames suggested, raising to her feet.

The truth was on some level she wanted to pick Grace's brain, she wanted to know what had made her leave and the connection between her and Bobby. Also she needed to calm Grace down, although she wouldn't help Bobby clean up his mess. Eames slipped on her thick red coat and led Grace lightly by the arm through the threshold of Major Cases.

"I will kill him." Grace said, flexing her fist.

"Ok." Eames drew the word out as they stepped up towards elevator.

Eames pushed the button to call the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing Bobby Goren, standing there before them, deep in thought. Grace's eyes narrowed into tiny slits as Bobby glanced up. His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as she stared at the two women in front of him. Grace wasted no time in squaring up to the six foot plus detective. Eames mouthed the words "good luck" in Bobby's direction as the metal doors began to close behind Grace.

There was silence between them as the lift began to transcend, Grace slammed her hand on the Emergency stop button, causing the lift to break and jolt suddenly. Bobby found his back pressed up against the silver panels of the elevator.

Grace's eyes were blazing, her entire body was wound up with tension. She was spoiling for a fight, she looked ready to take on Tyson, she had no fear when she was like this and that worried him. He'd seen her like this only once and it had not ended well.

"How dare you?" she erupted jabbing in the chest with her finger. "You complete and utter bastard."

Her face was tilted up towards him, her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows knotted tightly. There was a fire in her he had not seen in a long time and to Bobby's logical distaste he discovered he liked it. He enjoyed the passion and the fierceness that coursed through her, it was like going back in time and suddenly he couldn't control himself.

He was not a man run by his emotions but he knew the minute he'd seen the spark ignite in her eyes he wanted her all over again. He wanted to run his hands all over her body, to smother her mouth was his, to claim her all over again.

"How dare you bump me off my own case! Well let me tell you something Robert Goren I will not stand for this. You think your some NYPD hotshot, you better watch your back!" she snapped, shaking her head, and reaching for the emergency stop button.

Bobby's hand enclosed on her wrist, Grace turned her head towards him in surprise. Their eye met and for the longest time they stood there staring, letting the wave of emotions crash over the two of them. The confined space popped and sizzled with the tension between them. Bobby could hear Grace's breathing change, short, ragged pants as he lingered in her proximity.

His lips brushed hers lightly at first, tasting, testing. Then everything went to hell. Grace's tongue was in his mouth, His hand were on her hips, his thumbs rubbing over the sensitive skin underneath her shirt and pushing it upwards.

The heat between them intensified, Grace's body was on fire. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, and Bobby was skilled, he knew just the right things to make her gasp and moan. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, her body bucked against him. Bobby stepped forward, slamming her into the button panel.

The lift jolted to life suddenly, causing the two of them to bolt apart, flushed and breathing heavily. Bobby straightened his suit jacket, and cleared his throat as Grace yanked her shirt down from around her waist where it had bunched up just in time for the doors to Homicide to open before them.

"Yea, so you think about that." Grace warned him gruffly, before striding from the elevator with purpose.

Grace was biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed and her mind flustered as she tried to gather back some composure. Bobby watched her go, one arm wrapped around his waist, his elbow resting on it as his hand covered his mouth.

Bobby Goren knew he was in for a world of trouble and there didn't seem to be anyway to stop it.

* * *

There wasn't anything more that Grace wanted to do than slam her head upon her desk right now. She had no idea what had come over her in the elevator. From one severe emotional state to another was what had happened. To say she missed Bobby was an understatement, she was more concerned it was the presence of life partner that she lacked. He had been her last lover, the end had been abrupt in a way so it was no wonder she felt like things were unresolved between them.

Right now she hated him, she hated the way he made her feel and the fact he'd kicked both her and Martinez off the case. It still made her blood boil when she thought of how he'd made this personal.

Martinez had taken it a lot better than she had, he had been expectant and resigned. He had written their final reports and sent them off to Major Crimes with a shrug, muttering the words "it happens".

The truth was it shouldn't be happening, and part of it at least was Grace's fault, she shouldn't have tried to kiss Bobby last night, she shouldn't have gotten swept away in those feelings. She should have got out the damn car and gone straight into the house, none of this talking about the past shit. No more remembering the night he proposed, or how his black t shirt hugged the contours of his body as he'd helped her move in to his place.

Grace was furious at herself as well as him. Why couldn't she just leave it the hell alone? Why had she challenged him with the past? She knew what he was like, she knew he didn't want to acknowledge what had happened between them. Gage had taught him better then that.

Gage, she recalled loathed her. He despised the fact that she was Bobby's weakness, the one thing that held him back and he had no shame in telling her or Bobby that either. It had been him who'd set her straight after the incident.

It was Gage who had told her that she was hindering Bobby, that she was doing nothing to help him aspire to the heights he could. She was holding him back and it was probably best to step away so that she could recover on her own, because she wasn't helping Bobby and Bobby was important, she wasn't the one that would go far. Grace was simply making him weak.

Grace tossed those thoughts out of her head and settled on something more peaceful, something that didn't hurt when she thought about it. She thought about Charlie and the run they'd taken this morning, about the shower and how good the water had felt on her skin. This little things helped her pull away from emotional battlefield and steer towards the bigger picture.

A coffee cup appeared in front of her, Grace glanced up startled. Martinez was standing beside her desk, he set a pink box of donuts between the two of them, leaving it open and gesturing for her to take one.

"You look like you need a pick me up." he shrugged before dropping into his own seat across form her.

Grace wrapped her hands around her coffee to warm them as she exhaled deeply.

"It just feels like we put all that work in for nothing you know?" she said, taking a donut with pink icing and multicolored sprinkles.

"If it gets a murderer off the streets who cares who gets the credit?" he pointed out, sipping from his own coffee cup.

Grace tilted her head from side to side, before shrugging.

"Don't you wanna move up through the ranks?" she asked him taking a bite out of her donut.

It was alike a little piece of heaven in her mouth. She watched as Martinez deliberated. He was handsome, she realized as she took in his darker skin and his confident demeanor. His dark hair was a little longer than she was used to seeing on cops but she thought it suited him.

"Yea, who doesn't. I just mean in this case, I'm glad to be out from under the public eye. The media puts things under a microscope, I'm not comfortable with that." Martinez told her, before rising her eyebrows. "But you are. I saw the way you took those questions and the way you delivered the statement. You are a natural."

Grace shrugged tearing a piece off her donut with her fingers before popping it into her mouth.

"You get better with experience." she reassured him.

Something flashed across Martinez's features, it was gone before Grace had a chance to understand what it was. She frowned, studying him intently as she sipped from her coffee cup. Martinez, looked down at his take out cup. Grace chose to ignore it, instead focusing on the paper work that needed her signature.

"So how did the third date go?" she asked, shuffling the paperwork before selecting another donut.

Martinez pulled a face.

"She's a cop banger." he admitted.

Grace leaned forward on her elbows, chewing on her donut with interest. She'd been out the loop so long she wasn't entirely sure of all the terms that were used these days.

"You mean she's got a thing for handcuffs?" she offered by way of explanation.

"She asked if I had any friends who were cops." Martinez responded his eyebrows raised so that Grace got his drift.

Grace choked on her donut, while trying to stifle the laugh that emitted form her mouth. She took a swig of coffee to give her a moment to gather her composure.

"A third date threesome?" Grace queried, with a wide smile.

"I'm not going anywhere near another guy like that." Martinez informed her. "I'm all for gay rights and all but theres no way I want another guy there when I'm getting my freak on. I was out of there in a shot."

Grace smirked unable to hide the amusement in her expression as she shook her head.

"See that is one of the reasons I don't date." she blurted out.

It was Martinez's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"You don't date?" he repeated, thinking he couldn't have heard correctly.

Grace was a pretty girl, it was a given that she was his partner, but he could see that she was attractive. A few of the uniforms had been trying to work up the courage to ask her out, but her sassy, no nonsense attitude seemed to scare the hell out of them. That and the fact she was damaged goods.

Grace's cheeks flushed red as she gazed down into her coffee cup.

"I'm not good with people." she told him.

"Your good with the press." Martinez pointed out.

"I can control those types of situations, dating is a whole different ball game and it's awkward. It's really awkward." she finished lamely.

"It can be fun, remember the excitement of getting to know someone new?" Martinez prompted.

Grace didn't find that exciting, she found it frightening and unnerving. She didn't trust people, a symptom of the event from two years ago. She couldn't let her guard down and that made her cold and abrupt. Martinez must have read her expression. He pondered on it before speaking.

"Let me take you out sometime." he said.

Grace stared at him alarmed. Martinez rested his elbows on the desk before meeting her gaze with his own small smile.

"You feel comfortable with me right? And you don't like expectations. I won't have any of you. It'll just be two partners going out for dinner." Martinez told her gently.

He had a feeling if he was too assertive it would push Grace in the opposite direction from the course he wanted to take.

"It doesn't have to be anything more than that." he added lightly.

"Maybe." she begrudged finally. "If we finish this paperwork by end of shift."

Martinez gave her a wide smile.

It was time for her to explore the world a little more, to learn what she had been missing over these past two years. Who knew she may just like it. At the end of the day it was better than staying at home and thinking about Bobby.

It was that thought that swayed her into saying "yes."

* * *

_**Hey guys! It's been a busy week for me but I'm still writing away. Thanks for your reviews!**_

_Hope: I find him very emotionally immature, it' like he's aware of how he should feel but he doesn't allow himself to do so. Thank you so much!_

_Mom: I can't help but wonder what you'll think of this chapter. Thanks for the review._


	10. Chapter 10: Building The Mystery

Chapter Ten

_Give us a tantrum  
And a know it all grin  
Just when we need one  
When the evening's thin_

_Sarah Mac – Building A Mystery_

Sal's restaurant was a popular little place stationed in the Bronx, the tables were decorated with red and white checked table clothes. There was a wine bottle in the center of the table with a red candle placed in it. The condiments lining the body of it, upon the surface of the table. The lighting was low, she detected the loving and carefree, romantic atmosphere from the fact the majority of tables were housing couples. The waiting staff were dressed smartly in black, the menu's leather bound, with Sal's engraved on the back in gold.

The majority of men here were wearing some kind of suit, Grace felt a little out of place, sporting jeans, low heels and cream, chiffon gypsy style top. Her dark hair was loose but had been straightened before she left the house, she wore a little make up, but not enough to give Martinez or anyone else the impression she was trying to hard.

If she was honest, she hadn't expected to walk into a place like this. She thought Martinez was more of a Chicken Wings and Mets game kinda date. Apparently he had taste, unfortunately this was too enclosed, too much like a date for Grace's own liking. Becoming romantically involved with your partner was stupid.

Martinez was already seated at a table near the center of the room, he waved from his position, beside them sat an empty table with a single chair. As Grace wove through the other diner's she wondered what sort of person would come to a restaurant like this alone.

Grace dropped into the seat adjacent to Martinez and set her purse down to rest by her feet underneath the table. She rose her eyes to meet Hector's, he smiled at her reassuringly as she took a second to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth. This entire situation was making her anxious. It felt wrong.

"You look wonderful tonight." he told her. "Well different to how you look in work."

Grace knew her smile looked strained as she gripped the menu in front of her, she could feel the moisture on her palms, another sign of panic. She tried to reign in the intense feeling that pushed through her boundaries and unsettled her stomach.

"I don't think this was a good idea." she blurted out suddenly.

Martinez met her gaze abruptly.

"It's just a meal between friends." Martinez told her, his eyebrows furrowed.

"A meal between friends is a diner somewhere or a pancake house. This..." she said waving her hand towards the rest of the room. "...is trying to impress someone."

"That's kind of what I was aiming for, I wanted to show you there was more to me that being your junior partner." Martinez responded honestly.

By the look on his face Grace could see he was tense and unhappy by her words.

"I don't want more than my junior partner. I like working beside you, I would probably like to be your friend, but this..." Grace shook her head helplessly. "This is too much."

Martinez picked up the napkin from his lap and tossed it on the table before leaning towards her.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed. "I try to do something nice for you, show you the world's not some big, bad scary place and you throw it back in my face."

Grace ground her teeth trying to keep her temper under wraps. She had been a little paranoid, she got that, she couldn't help herself and she had humiliated him. She understood why he was lashing out.

"The world is a big bad scary place. I'm not thrown it back in your face I'm trying to explain that I am uncomfortable." she reasoned.

Martinez's eyes narrowed into little slits, she was startled to see his expression turn to one of malice as his jaw clenched.

"I know why your uncomfortable and I thought someone like me taking you out would make it better, but it's clear you don't think I'm good enough for you. You see me as the guy that attacked you." he spat raising to his feet.

Grace covered her mouth with her hand. Her cheeks were burning and her eyes stung as Martinez, looked down at her in disgust. Her insides twisted, she felt sick as she stared at him in horror.

"People talk Grace, and while your off pretending it didn't happen, every single one of us know what damaged goods you really are." he told her, both hands resting on the table as he leaned over it.

"That's enough." A deep and husky voice interrupted softly.

Grace became aware of a large lingering presence along side the table. She closed her eyes trying to force back the well of emotions that were swirling around her body and pushing her to the edge.

"What are you her knight in shining armor?" Martinez questioned, his had on his hips pushing his suit jacket back.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, his expression one of amusement as he studied the man in front of him.

"Your father was a drunk right? He taught you women weren't good enough for anything but being in the house, and for the bedroom right? Women cops, they piss you off. Grace here, she gets under your skin, because you know she's a better cop than you, the way she handled the Senator's case showed you that didn't it?" Bobby questioned.

Martinez's face drained. Grace stared at Martinez appalled as he muttered something in what she guessed was Spanish.

Bobby shook his head, his eyebrows raised as he faced Martinez, a smile twitched at his lips.

"I'm not a sorcerer, You see the research you did on her." he pointed at Grace.

"I did on you, and your body language." Bobby gestured with his hands. "Tells me the rest."

"I didn't wanna work with some broad, that's no a proper partner. A girl can't have your back." Martinez spat, dodging around Goren, striding towards the exit.

"I think Human Resources would have something to say about that." Bobby called out after him. "Along with the majority of the NYPD."

Grace covered her face with her hands, rubbing them over her humiliated cheeks. Her sleeves rubbed across her eyes. This was painful, this was shameful, embarrassing. Large warm hands pried her hands gently away from her face and she found herself staring into Bobby Goren's dark chocolate colored eyes.

"There's no sense in being ashamed." he told her, his gaze straying downwards as he turned her palms skyward.

"Martinez is scared of women, he's scared of them having power." he explained, using the index finger of his left hand to trace the creases of her palm as he spoke.

The gesture was soothing, it incited calm and made her take a deep breath as she listened to him.

"His father was a single parent who used to drink. His mother ran out on the family after Martinez turned four and his father probably convinced him they were worthless, he has had two verbal warnings to his behavior towards other female officers. You got partnered with him because no one else will." Bobby paused clasping her hand in his. "You should talk to your Captain, be assigned a new partner."

Things were moving too fast for Grace to understand. She'd gone from one extreme to another. Martinez had been trying to get under her skin and she simply hadn't realized, he 'd been trying to figure out what made her tick, the secret of her success as it were. The fact that Grace shunted people away from her had become the problem.

"He buttered me up with donuts and coffee." she told him, squeezing his hand.

Bobby watched as she bit the inside of her cheek. A symbol of her agitation. She was trying to withhold her emotions, and the real life flesh pain, drew her attention away from the agony of the mind. Martinez disgusted Bobby, his words about Grace's defilement made him want to break the other man in two, and his involvement in unsealing Grace's files...

That was already set to fall down on the other man's head. Goren had seen to that with Eames help.

"Don't think about it." Bobby advised. "Just sit back and enjoy the rest of the evening."

Grace reached down to collect her bag and deposit it on the table.

"I don't think I can stand to be there anymore. Everybody is staring." she told him, wiping at her eyes furiously.

"Let me take you home." he appealed, his eyes studying her.

She was holding herself together, he could see it was a struggle. Grace rose to her feet, her hands resting on the table her head high and shoulders arched back. Elegant, he thought. She lived up to her name sake.

The two of them were silent as they stepped outside the restaurant, they walked side by side until they reached Grace's car. She handed him the keys wordlessly before climbing into the passenger seat. Bobby started the engine and pulled out before Grace spoke again.

"How did you know?" she asked quietly, looking down at her hands resting in her lap.

"Martinez came to me." he informed her. "He was asking about you, about the Jack case. Someone must have opened their mouth."

Bobby glanced at Grace sideways, his hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter at the distress upon her features.

"Eames flagged your file, Martinez managed to unseal it." Bobby continued.

Grace tilted her head back against the leather head rest before letting out a long sigh.

"So everybody knows." she uttered into the air.

"Just because one person knows doesn't mean that everyone else does." he pointed out, watching traffic as they sat stationary in front of red light. "Would it really matter if they did?"

Grace ran her hands over her face lightly.

"It makes a difference to me. I hate the fact people will start treating me like I'm some fragile little girl. I can do my job and I do it well, I don't need to be in the spotlight like this." she told him as a matter of fact. "Jesus why did I even agree to this?"

Bobby clamped his mouth shut to bite back the answer that had almost slipped past his lips. She had been confused, he knew that and partly he felt responsible for that. The kiss had left her vulnerable and uncertain and it irritated him that he was partially to blame for instigating such a thing. He had gotten swept away, their history had been forgotten and they'd been wrapped up in the moment. He couldn't get over how good she felt pressed against him, how soft her lips were, how warm her hands felt as they crept up his broad chest and across his large shoulders.

"He had you at a weak point." Bobby stated, drawing away from his line of thinking.

There was silence between them, Bobby didn't know the words to say to fix this. His degree in Criminal Psychology didn't cover this, as reassuring as he wanted to be, he couldn't make this go away.

It took Grace a moment to realize that the car had even stopped. Bobby was sitting quietly for a while, simply watching her as she stared out of the window.

"What happens now?" she whispered.

"I walk you to the door." Bobby offered.

Grace tilted her head towards Bobby, her lips twitching with a small smile.

"I would like that very much." she told him, checking the road before opening the car door and stepping out into the road.

Bobby was leaning against the hood by the time Grace made it to the other side of the car.

"Is that your dog there?" Bobby asked, with a smile as he pointed at the panting face staring at them from the window.

"Charlie." Grace said, as Bobby handed her the keys.

The two of them walked up to the front door, Grace stuck her key in the lock as Bobby leaned against the porch. Charlie padded towards them as the door swung open, before sitting down next to the door.

"He's a good boy." Bobby said, patting the dog on the head.

Charlie looked up at him, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"He must like you." Grace said as she stepped inside. "Usually he runs guys off."

"He knows I'm one of the good guys." Bobby said smiling widely, rubbing the dog behind the ears.

"Thanks." Grace said suddenly looking down at the keys clasped in her hand. "For the restaurant and then for walking me to the door."

Bobby lingered in the doorway.

"Anytime." he murmured, taking a step out of the door, before he turned back around.

"Tomorrow's a new day." Bobby told her, as Grace leaned against the door.

"Tomorrow's a new day." Grace repeated, her eyes never leaving his.

"It'll be fine." Bobby uttered catching the fleeting dread that erupted across Grace's features.

"I promise."

Grace pursed her lips together.

"I hope so."

* * *

_**Sorry it's been a while, but I have been very busy.**_

_Hope: Do you think this is a bit out of char for Martinez?_

_Mom: I hate Gage too, and I agree with you on that!_


	11. Chapter 11: Partners

Chapter Eleven

_Your a falling star_

_Your the getaway car_

_Your the line in the sand_

_When I go too far._

_Michael Buble – Everything_

As Grace understood it she was a bit of conundrum for the NYPD. After the incident with Martinez, it was deemed unsafe for the two of them to be paired together by their Captain. Martinez had been suspended for unsealing her file but unfortunately the damage was already done. The word was out and the looks she was getting in Homicide was enough to make her grind her teeth every time somebody looked at her the wrong way.

It was nightmarish going through this kind of hell. She felt she was being persecuted on a completely different level. The cops that she knew supported her, well... They didn't know the right words to say so most of them said nothing at all. Being stuck on desk duty in the Homicide Squad room was becoming more of a battle day by day.

That was until Captain Deakins of the Major Case Squad had offered an alternative. An old partner of Grace's was transferring into Major Case and Deakins needed just the right person to handle him.

It had been years since she had seen Mike Logan, he'd been the Detective who had trained her originally when she'd first got her promotion to Detective's. The two of them had been a formidable pair back in Staten island before Grace had transferred into the Manhattan Vice Unit. Logan had a reputation for being a being a complete pain, he was grouchy and hotheaded but when you earned his trust the guy had your back for life. Putting the two of them back together again was a work of genius on Deakins part.

Both Logan and her were problems and Deakins had just found away to fix something that had the potential to become a huge pain in the NYPD's ass otherwise. Breaking in a new partner was never easy especially when your partner was Mike Logan. Logan needed someone to keep him in check and honestly Grace needed to know she had someone she could trust on her side. Understandably she needed the stability.

Grace wouldn't allow herself to wonder what Bobby thought about this or if he had even heard of her transfer into his unit. She would have accused him of orchestrating it if she hadn't known Deakins to be as stubborn and world weary as he was.

The Major Case Squad room was still the same as it was on her previous visits, the only difference was that this was now her new home. Grace hitched up her cardboard box of possessions and balanced it onto her hip as she walked In her opposite hand she was carrying a cardboard cup carrier containing two take out cups of coffee.

Her gaze was automatically drawn to Bobby's desk as passed by it. She wasn't surprised to find it empty. Both him and Eames were in the field working a high profile jewellery thief case she'd seen on the news. Bobby's desk had very little in the way of personal possessions adorning it. It was cluttered with stacks of files in orders he only knew. Along side his desk was a small make shift bookshelf come trolley stacked with books she guessed he referred to during the course of his investigations. She recognized a few of them from the shelves he had had back in the apartment when she had been living there. A casual glance at Eames desk boasted a framed photograph of a husband that Grace knew had been dead almost a decade.

Logan's voice c through the room distracting her from her thoughts as she turned her attention back to the empty squad room. As usual with Logan she heard him before she saw him. Her blue eyes came to rest upon the back of him as he shook the empty coffee pot in frustration.

"Does nobody in this damn place know how to refill a coffee pot?" he growled to himself, shaking his head.

"Good thing I remember how grouchy you get in the mornings." Grace remarked slipping her cardboard box of belongings onto the nearest empty desk.

"Nah, your just too upbeat in the mornings." Logan retorted as he turned around to face her.

He hadn't changed much at all over the years. He was still wearing a black suit that defined his shape and his eyes were still as sharp as ever. She could feel his gaze slipping over her cataloguing the changes since they had last seen each other face to face. His hair was still cut in the same fashion it had been back then and she was surprised to see that there was no grey in it.

"Gracie." Logan beamed as he held out his hands in greeting. "It's good to see ya."

"You too Mike." Grace responded, matching his smile with one of her own before holding out the coffee cup container.

Logan took the take out cup out of the holder and took a tentative sip before turning his attention back to Grace again, gesturing at the coffee cup.

"You don't forget a thing do you?" Logan commented, taking another swig from his cup.

Grace shrugged.

"It's both a blessing and a curse." she submitted before her gaze strayed to the desk he was leaning against.

It was parked behind a pillar in an awkward diagonal position.

"You did get the worst desk in the place didn't you?" she teased, tilting her head at his bare work station.

Logan never came with much.

"I figure its a welcome back gift from the higher ups." Logan informed her, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

"Clearly you've done something right to end up back here." Grace pointed out, taking the lid off of her own coffee cup and dumping it in the bin alongside her own desk.

"Last chance saloon." Logan said, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

"What does that make you? Billy the kid." Grace sniggered in response to his phrase.

Logan opened his mouth to respond, to find himself cut off before the words made it out of his mouth by Captain Deakins sticking his head out of his glass office and calling out their names. Grace wondered if he's been listening to their banter all along and what he thought about it.

Grace raised her eyebrow at Logan before he straightened up and moved towards the office. It was nice knowing she had Logan at her back. The trust was still there, which surprised her. Since she had returned she had found it hard to trust anyone at all. Yet with Logan they were already slipping so easily back into the partnership they had had back on Staten Island. The first time she'd put a bullet in someone it had been because of Mike Logan, bonds like that were hard to break.

There was silence between them as Deakins waited for the two of them to settle in their chairs opposite his desk. Grace liked Deakins, his experience made Major Case a more successful organisation. His dry humour was what kept the morale up here and often when the two of them had engaged in conversation she found herself coming away smiling. Deakins was old school police and Grace had an enormous amount of respect for that.

Grace chanced a glance at Logan as he settled comfortably in his chair, hand still gripping his coffee cup. Despite his ambivalence he looked more confident than she felt inside and she drew strength from that. Logan emitted confidence at all times, she was going to take a leaf out of his book in regards to that. She straightened in her seat, shoulders back and head high. She had a right to be here.

"The two of you are happy with this arrangement?" Deakins asked, using his right hand to gesture between the two of them.

"Do either of us have much of a choice?" Logan pointed out.

Grace took a long sip of her coffee in response to his prickliness. It was times like this she wished she had a cigarette, Logan did not think before he acted hence why he'd got shoved onto Staten Island in the first place. She had learned long ago not to take his outspokenness to heart. Grace felt Deakins gaze upon her, weighing her reaction to Logan's words.

"He'll warm up after the caffeine hits." she informed the Captain, tilting her head in Logan's direction.

"Don' talk about me like I'm not here." Logan griped, using his thumb to wipe a droplet of coffee from the plastic rim of his take out cup.

"Then stop acting like your not thrilled to be here. Last chance saloon remember?" Grace reminded him, rolling her eyes at his mood.

"I am thrilled to be here." Logan admitted to Deakins flatly before holding up his cup for empathise. "And she's right about the coffee."

A confession like that from Logan's lips didn't come lightly and Grace knew he was making a concession towards her. The two of them glanced at each other, Logan tilted his coffee cup in her direction.

"Thanks." he muttered, meeting her gaze.

"It's nice to know that someone taught you some manners while I was away." she teased him, breaking into a smile before turning her attention to Deakins who was watching the exchange with amusement.

"I think this partnership is going to work." Grace assured him.

"Good to hear it." Deakins remarked before the loud familiar ring tone cut through the air.

Both Logan's and her own sprang to life in unison, Logan was the first to snatch his up from the clip that resided upon his belt. Deakins waited until the two of them had finished listening to the operator before addressing them both again.

"Looks like the two of you have got your first case." he said, before yanking open his door as he two Detectives rose to their feet. "Good luck."

"Your gonna have to tell me about California sometime." Logan remarked as the two of them stood before the elevator as Grace tapped the button impatiently.

Grace groaned inwardly, clearly someone hadn't been able to keep their mouths shut in Logan's presence. She wondered what he had heard and of course, what he believed. There would come a time when she would have to be straight with him. Now was not that time, she thought as the two of them stepped inside the elevator.

"Maybe some other time." Grace said simply as she pressed the button for the parking garage.

* * *

_**Hey guys. I apologize this has been a while. I started watching CI again and became addicted. Let me know of anyone is still reading so I know whether to continue this story or not!**_


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